


The End Is Nigh

by i_am_op



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cinderella Elements, Crack, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 02:04:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10957404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_op/pseuds/i_am_op
Summary: Lance throws his shoe at Keith's head and it hits it's intended target dead-on."Royal prince, my fucking ass," Lance screams as he continues running into the dead of the night.(Alternatively: Cinderella AU)





	The End Is Nigh

**Author's Note:**

> i just wrote this short thing in like 15 minutes bc it just popped up in my mind lol  
> mind the grammar mistakes bc i just cranked this out without checking

"Excuse me, King Solomon the sixth was a formidable man, he was a great rule. He made our economy stronger."

Lance made a face in his glass. "Bitch, how do you think he made our economy stronger? Through the peasant's taxes! Besides, by economy, you mean _your_ economy, not the lower class. "

"Don't call me bitch, you ass. That's a lie made by Frances Raviolli, a drunkard and delusional man who just wanted publicity and money in his pockets to fuel his alcoholism! The guy was nothing more than--"

"Oh, fuck _off_. Get off your high horse, you noble spoiled fuckface. Frances is a national icon and if you want to--"

Keith scoffed at his words and rolled his eyes. "National icon to _poor_ people, yeah."

"Oh, _fuck you_ , pretentious rich boy."

"Bringing insults rather than facts to the argument, now are we." His smirk was taunting and made Lance want to punch the stupid smirk off.

It's well into the night and a ball was currently being held. A ball held by royalty in the name itself.

And Lance, instead of dancing with the woman of his dreams, clad in beautiful clothing and adorned in jewels, was spending it having a fight with a guy who seemed to have a phobia of poor people and drunk off his mind, while strolling through the garden.

The garden that should've been the lovely spot for he and his future lover to observe and compliment. The reason he came to this stupid ball.

For a girlfriend.

But fate has other plans, because he found himself strolling in the lovely king and queen's garden that seemed to spell out perfection with their carefully coordinated color schemes and the intricate way the flowers were cut, with an asshole.

And here Lance was, crushing the flowers underneath his feet as he and Keith aggressively argued as one could aggressively argue without throwing punches.

It's going on back-and-forth, like a tennis match, but it's interrupted by the chimes of a grandfather clock.

"Fuck, it's, twelve o'clock."

"What? Some rule for peasants to leave so early?" Keith's sarcastic reply to Lance's mumble that he had managed to overhear.

"Oh shut up, some people actually are responsible and go home before early in the morning," Lance says, without skipping a beat.

He quickly makes a run for it, out of the garden towards the inside of the palace, where the crowd was. He has to steady himself because his vision wasn't quite the greatest at the moment, after having a few drinks, everything looked sort of like a blur of colors. 

Keith makes an attempt for a grab at his arm. "Wait, you can't just go without giving me a reason why Jacob was a bad guy--"

But he's already inside and Keith trails after him.

They get through a crowd of people and by the time Keith is close enough, they're already outside on the steps.

"Hey--" 

Lance throws his shoe at Keith's head and it hits it's intended target dead-on. It slams Keith's forehead with enough force to make him stumble on his steps for a bit and it also allows Lance to get a few seconds advantage.

"Wow, you complete dick! You're going to get your ass over here and tell me your name!" Keith shouts towards the figure.

" _The only thing my ass is going to do is slam your existence into oblivion_ ," Lance screams as he continues running into the dead of the night.

Keith's eyes follow Lance's retreating figure as it slowly disappears into the night, seething in anger that didn't seem likely to subside. 

Keith turned red and without putting much thought to it, went down the steps in a hurry. He grabbed the shoe that had fell to the first few steps and picked it up.

Mustering up all the strength he had into his one arm, he takes aim and throws towards Lance, but by the time it's even halfway in the air, Lance had already disappeared completely. In Lance's flight, several people had gathered outside from the commotion. They crowded the stairs, covering the entrance way. 

Keith made a dash for the fallen shoe and grabbed it, making a slight face eith how worn out it was before retreating towards the door.

Mildly irritated with the crowd, Keith pushed his way through, making his way inside the castle. Shoved a few people, maybe really rich noblemen who's opinion of them was really vital to their success, but really, it wasn't important at this very moment.

He made it through the crowd and was inside the palace, searching for someone across the ballroom. Some of the people had left already, so he found who he was looking for quite easily.

"Mother, Father, I need you to search for someone with these shoes!"

Shiro raised his eyebrowss and glanced at Allura, who returned his own inquisitive look with a curious gaze of her own. "Someone meet your fancy?"

All right, maybe.

He was a good conversationalist and was more interesting than majority of the people in the room, but he was still the guy who was a massive dick and threw a shoe at his head.

"Not important, all I need to know is where he lives." He lifts up the shoe and in a demanding tone asks, "Can you do it?"

"I suppose we could search for people with possession of these sh-- aren't those the cheap shoes you could buy at a local shop? I think most people wear those," Shiro said.

" _Fuck_."

* * *

 There was a knock on the door and it did not do any favors for Lance.

"Jesus christ, Pidge, get the door!" Lance shouted. He had a headache from all the alcohol he had consumed last night. A hangover, if you may.

At Lance's words, Pidge reluctantly comes out, grumbling underneath his breath, what sounded distinctly like," lazy ass."

"I'll pay you back later, but just get the door," Lance mumbles, as the pounding on the door gets even louder, making his head ring.

Pidge gets the door and there standing in the doorway was some pageboy and-- holy shit, the noble he had fought with last night. And they were... holding the shoe he had wore last night. 

"We're here upon Prince Keith's wishes," The pageboy pauses and looks towards the noble and continues," To find the male who owns this shoe."

Lance paled at the sight of _Prince_ Keith.

Shit. A prince. Out of all the things he could've been, he was the fucking prince of the beloved king and queen of the land. He thought he'd be some nobleman from some faraway country or something akin to that, not the fucking _prince_.

This was the guy he had drunkenly argued about politics with, quarreled with, and been an asshole to. Flashes of calling him vulgar names and insulting him came back to him, not to mention, hitting him with a shoe. Was hurting the prince a criminal offense?

The hangover seems to have banished completely. He quickly turns his head away and runs back upstairs and shut the door behind him as quietly as possible.

He insulted a prince, attacked him with a shoe (totally not entirely his fault, the prince was a dick), and now the prince was looking around the place, searching for him to behead him.

Never will he ever come out again to the world.


End file.
